Daemont Woodlock
by TheyCallMeVengeance
Summary: It's been merely five years since the death of Voldemort had occurred, an event that left behind a world on fire and countless grieving families. Enter Daemont Woodlock, a parselmouth prodigy who is seen by many as an abomination to the wizarding world. He is a target for those seeking revenge against the Slytherin House, teachers and students alike. Follow him in his first year!
1. Chapter 1

My first fan fiction I've ever embarked on writing. Feel free to jeer, smile, cry, and critique.

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Chapter One

"Daemont Woodlock!"

The message sent by his father had been successfully registered into his mind. He sprung up from his seat at the bus station, where shouts and giggles were commonplace, mingling with the short, tall, fat, and thin. Earlier, he had walked into the brick wall, giving himself an intentional headache. Still rubbing his sore head, he faced his father, who he himself was facing the brick wall that lead to platform nine and three-quarters.

Daemont looked up at his father, and mumbled nonchalantly, "Well, I suppose I simply do not have an affinity for magic. I cannot even find the bloody doorway." His father eyed him with cynicism, noting how he had been caught three days ago uttering strange enunciations uniquely foreign to his father's ears, to a garden snake little larger than a rat's tail. If his own son was anything, it was that he was magically adept.

"Parseltongue," his wife called it. "It is a trait unique to those that are blessed with the gifts of Salazar Slytherin in one form or another, although I am unsure of the background behind those powers, nor the reasoning behind him acquiring it. Perhaps our child is simply a wizard prodigy, related to the great Salazar Slytherin!" The witch continued to muse about it along with her muggle husband.

Although, the fact that his son was a possible child prodigy thrust suddenly into the world of wizardry was nothing that he was taking lightly. He made sure to let Daemont know of it every waking morning leading up to the departure day to Hogwarts, where his son would spend his years of academia honing his skills and perhaps making some friends. Making friends was a skill that Daemont, in the face of all that stood before him, both needed and severely lacked.

Daemont noticed the strained expression on his father's face, and chuckled heartily. Eleven years of age, and he was already showing signs of keen awareness that was taken to be at a rather unusual level by fellow peers, teachers, and even the friends of his parents. "Well, it has been nice knowing you, father," he yelled out playfully as he pelted towards the seemingly solid brick wall with his luggage along with the cage holding his black and white cat Vyceros and a bulging backpack.

"Say goodbye to my schoolmates for me, will you? Not that the task would be undertaken with difficulty." He disappeared past muggle eyes, leaving only his father behind with a task not to be taken seriously. As a matter of fact, his father had completed the task by default; Daemont had no friends to leave behind.

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Trains. He had once taken a seat in one. He didn't like that experience. Way back when he first boarded one, there just so happened to have been a pin situated on a seat where his bottom was later put to rest on, causing intense pain as a young adolescent with five years on him. He put a small luggage bag up on the rack above his head, his backpack down by his feet, and his cat in the cage on the seat to the right of him. Contrary to his first experience with trains, there were no pins where his bottom sat, and so he rested his head on the cushion, and let his thoughts wander off into nothingness while peering out the window...

THUMP!

The door opened to reveal a girl with long rivers of chocolatey goody-goodness, featured alongside deep hazel eyes and heathy, flawless white skin. At least, that's what he observed. A group of boys calling from behind her had called her a mudblood, which was, according to his mother, a wizard or witch birthed between a muggle and a magically gifted person. She pouted in a fake and exaggerated manner to the boys that were taunting her.

Daemont mistook this pouting as literal, and said in an effort to comfort her, "Do not worry, woman of chocolate hair! I am also a mudblood." The girl looked at him peevishly. "I think I'll go some place else," she said to him with an air of arrogance. "Nobody's stopping you from going out the door," he replied in an attempt to appear apathetic while pretending not to glance in her direction with one partially shut eye.

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Having taken good notes during the allotted time in which she was with him for, the boy was a socially awkward individual who thought of himself as a rather clever individual, with a knack for figuring out other people. Girls simply know this sort of stuff.

So she chose to stay with him for the time being. Not as though she had any other choice, seeing as how the remaining train seats were all taken. The girl noticed him sitting with a cage with a cat inside, and took a seat.

As she had observed, the boy had white hair with messy bangs that flowed down just a bit below his ears on the back of his head and up to his eyes at the front. His features were further complimented by his scarlet red eyes, which he used to gaze up at her invitingly. She had with her a cage containing a lively animal making shuffling sounds.

A scream could've been heard down the train, presumably from somebody being tickled.

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Daemont dozed off into a dream, where he was in a dark and gloomy entrance hall of a castle. The candle lights lit the way towards a vast, open space characterized by a constantly shifting staircase. Where there had once been beautiful paintings set along the walls of the very large room was now replaced with screaming faces, all of whom were facing him. He had his wand with him- a twelve-inch cherry wood dragon heartstring core wand. A man with a black robe tinged with yellow was standing upon one of the staircases holding out his wand while mouthing out, "Avada…"

"KEDAVRA!" Daemont awoke with a start, seeing the brown-haired girl wide-eyed at the spectacle before them; the corpse of a young prefect was on the floor of their compartment, having been struck from behind by some sort of killing curse. Loud footsteps were distancing the two young budding wizards from the perceived murderer.

While nearly everybody had remained in their compartments, Daemont was the only one to go chasing after the murderer in hopes of catching him and bringing him to justice.

Running swiftly, he went after the murderer with his backpack, catching the eyes of both new students and prefects alike. He whispered under his breath an incoherent whispering, and out from now unzipped backpack came a boa constrictor, which pursued the escapee with a vengeance. The snake got to the suspect, and wrapped itself around the person's leg, squeezing it to its breaking point.

Loud, simultaneous cracks were heard, signaling the breaking of the femur, patella, tibia, and fibula bones. A man's screech was heard amongst amused and disturbed faces of the passengers on board.

The boa constrictor then left the leg of the man, now having been seen to have been cloaked, and slithered back into Daemont's backpack, with the latter boasting a face filled with amusement. A collection of prefects came towards the scene, but rather than pointing their wands at the man, they all pointed their wands at the owner of the constrictor.

A quick glance behind his back, and Daemont saw that the man whom he had helped capture was indeed a man with the same black robe tinged with yellow as was the one encountered in his dream.

As he turned his head back to face the prefects, he was hit with the sudden realization that the elder wizards were not pleased with his display of bravado, as well as his association with a snake. His actions showed bravery and skill in communicating with snakes while pursuing the assailant. Was it bravery? Or was it, on the contrary, pure, and unfiltered ambition to catch the one responsible for the murder?

Was this boy anything like the former parselmouth expert Harry Potter? Or was he, daresay, comparable to the likes of Voldemort, a parselmouth as well? Thoughts like these were running through the heads of these prefects as they searched within themselves an answer. Rather than engaging in conversation with them, Daemont simply decided to stroll away from them and back to his compartment.

When he'd gotten back, the girl was still there, asking about whether or not he was okay, to which he replied, "You should indeed be much more worried about the victim's state of health rather than mine." It was evident to her that the corpse still lying within their compartment was beginning to stain the carpet with saliva, and that she would be among the first people to ever want to observe it, let alone touch it.

"Ugh," she muttered, annoyed, as two prefects from the pack of prefects that turned their wands onto Daemont a minute ago came to the compartment, and lifted the now deceased prefect off the ground and carried him off to an unspecified location. She was just about to poke around as well.

"Thanks," the parselmouth shouted back, "it was getting a little bit gross just lyin' there with open eyelids and-." The girl with the brown hair gave him a cold stare. He stopped his would-be detailed description of the corpse, and decided against continuing.

Vyceros squirmed in her cage, and was meowing incessantly until it occurred to Daemont to slip in a treat through the bars of the confining cage. "Shhhh," he cooed, "it'll be alright, kitty. Once we get to Hogwarts, there will be plenty to gorge ourselves on!" The girl rolled her eyes.

"Oh," said Daemont, shifting his attention to her once more, "I seems as though I've forgotten where my manners were. Although, whether or not I had manners to begin with is certainly questionable, I must first tell you my name. I go by Demon Warlock, but the name's Daemont Woodlock."

She stared at him for a few seconds, took a breath, and muttered, "Yeah right."

Daemont frowned, then smiled as he continued to look at her. "So what's your name, woman of brown eyes?"

"The name's Lora. Lora Kastome." It was declared absentmindedly, as she brought out her pet, known to the world as a Northern White-faced Owl, "and for your own information, my eyes are hazel, not brown."

As she was petting and feeding it, Daemont was looking out the window; bright, with clear blue skies, and cotton clouds that fluttered lazily above them.

Suddenly, he spotted a familiar-looking individual taking an awkward hop off the train through the glass, instantaneously recognizing him as the person who was killed earlier. It dawned on him that it wasn't an awkward hop that he was doing, but that he was being thrown off the train.

A moment later, there was another loud blast, followed by piercing shrieks and loud bangs.

Lora looked at Daemont and said, "You stay put now. I'm going to check out what's going on." Daemont shifted in his seat closer to Vyceros, shuffling his backpack right by his feet.

"Alright," he said. As she left, he let his thoughts wander off yet again as Vyceros licked his fingers.

_She's pretty_, he thought. _She's much nicer to me than any of the other girls at my old school_. He sighed to himself as he slid his fingers away from his cat's reach. He unzipped his backpack, and out came the boa constrictor, slithering and hissing.

Daemont faced it and hissed back.

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Lora Kastome turned right from the compartment and strode off towards the noise. There were multitudes of people brushing against her as she budged in for a better look at the scene.

According to a Gryffindor prefect, the suspect of the murder had apparently cast the killing curse upon himself while he was in the process of being detained. One of the prefects that were put in charge of securing the man reported that the man had reacted with surprising speed and grabbed his wand from the pocket of another prefect, and murdered himself. Motivations for the man's activities were unclear, as the man appeared to have been, as one would say, massively brain-dead.

"Move along, first-years," said a male Hufflepuff prefect, whose eyes appeared to communicate to on-lookers a sense of inner harmony, in spite of the current dire situation. His tanned white skin, brown burr-cut hair, and a scar that crossed over his left eyelid gave him the appearance of a natural fighter, despite him acting as a calm, serene Hogwarts prefect at first glance.

As he turned his gaze towards the other students, another prefect called him by name. "Andy Warren," said the Gryffindor prefect who had witnessed the suicide first-hand.

Andy gave the Gryffindor prefect a strained smile, "Yes, Bruno?"

Bruno glared at Andy, "It's Mr. McHickel to you. Do not address me by my first name, you inferior fifth year student. I am your superior, and as such, I shall be acknowledged as one."

_They both don't seem to be the ones to get along well with each other_, thought Lora, as the argument continued between the two. _I'd best keep out of their way_.

"Big deal! I'm a year younger than you. Hey, we're all equal in this together, okay?" Andy stated this while facing Bruno with yet another strained smile.

Bruno was just about to shoot back a reply when another Gryffindor prefect put her hand up to his mouth. "Sorry everyone! As you can see, this is an obviously stressful situation for all of the prefects currently on-board, and as such, I would like for you all to go back into your compartments." she announced to all of the panicked and curious.

Lora lingered there for a second longer than the other students that proceeded back to their seats. Andy turned to her, and pierced through her soul with a glance filled with a brief hint of madness.

"Do you intend to hang around here any longer, or will I have to drag you out by your hair back into your compartment with you kicking and screaming like a demented brat?"

She jumped out at those words, having expected a much more gentle approach from the prefect whom earlier was the calmest one of the bunch. "No, sir. I was simply looking out for the well-being of others," she replied in an innocent tone.

He took out and pointed his wand at her forehead, clucking as he did so. Lora stood still, as he closely examined her. His facial features softened as he knelt down in front of her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Don't let me down," he whispered into her ear, as he slowly got up and walked off towards his own compartment.

Lora crept back into her compartment with Daemont in it, her legs shaking as she took her seat straight across from him.

The train rumbled, the cages clinking along. _Choo choo! _It slowed down to a crawl. They had arrived. Finally arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

Beginning the second chapter... this is going to be interesting!

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Chapter Two

Daemont stepped off the train, his thoughts bouncing about in his mind, going back to what took place a few seconds ago.

"What happened?" He asked, as he looked at the red lip marks on her forehead, "did you get kissed by a girl?"

Lora put a hand to her forehead, brought it down to eye level, gave it a glance, and told him, "I-it's really none of your business what happened. Honestly, if you'd stop-OH GOSH, you're right, this IS lipstick!" Then, contrary to what she had earlier suggested, she told him all about the Hufflepuff prefect, about his overall appearance and his mannerisms. About the kiss.

"Ew, gross! That guy totally has a thing for you!" Daemont exploded in a fit of laughter while Lora looked at him in annoyance.

"Shut up, Daemont! Shush!"

They both ended up leaving the train walking in separate directions after the brief exchange in dialogue, each having different things on their mind. Apparently they had done so because because she could no longer stand his immaturity, but it soon became clear that this was not the case.

"DAEMONT!"

Daemont spun around, only to see that the rest of the first-year students were heading towards a large, longhaired, bearded man holding a lamp on his right hand while he , in comparison, heading... err, nowhere.

He spun around and started to sprint towards the large man and ran... into a pole.

Face first, too.

As he rubbed his head, Lora rolled her eyes, and the large man rushed over to him to check if he was okay.

It was soon after that the group walked into a forest and downwards toward many oar-less boats. As he'd gotten on one of them with Lora, having finally caught up to her with a lamp of his own, soon realized that the wooden boats moved towards Hogwarts Castle by themselves.

His bewildered expression made Lora giggle, as she focused her attention from him to the looming presence of Hogwarts Castle. The wind sang its song in her ears as her hair flowed along with the wind.

"Hey Lora," said Daemont, "would you happen to remember that fat guy's name?" Lora gave him a hopeless look, "Daemont, really? D'you not have a speech filter? His name is Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper of the school." Daemont scratched his head, "Really? Well in that case, I certainly wouldn't want to be anywhere near his vicinity if he ever gets angry!" Lora rolled her eyes.

Two boats forward and one boat to the right sat Bruno, chuckling to the fellow Gryffindor girl prefect that pulled on his ear a while ago. Lora also told him about them and Bruno's distasteful dispositions.

"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA," Bruno chuckled slowly to her as he whispered something in her ear-which Daemont caught, "did you see the lipstick that I put on Andy while he was snoozing? I'm looking forward to the moment when he finally notices that I have given him quite the feminine touch." She sighed, and elbowed him on the arm.

Daemont laughed as he saw this from a distance along with Lora. That explained lots.

The group was nearing the castle, the moonlight reflecting in the otherwise still water. Hagrid whistled and sang, which, to many kids, were a disturbance to the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.

A shooting star appeared above them, Daemont following it with his body until he nearly tipped over the edge, prompting Lora to grab hold of his arm to keep him on board.

He then proceeded to open his small luggage bag. In it was beef jerky and a bag of cat food.

"Hungry?" Daemont pointed his eyes to the contents of the luggage bag, then to her.

"No, thank you," she replied, wondering why the snake Daemont earlier possessed hadn't made its presence known yet.

Her question was soon answered from Daemont with, "The snake that I used to crush the legs of that suicidal murderer wanted out. So I dumped him out the window. He was fine with it, though, being a snake and all."

Hogwarts, noticed Daemont, was a large place. The group proceeded out of their respective boats and walked up the steps leading to the castle itself. One first-year student fell down about thirty steps and cracked his skull on the cold, hard, concrete. The scene was rather bloody, and Hagrid had to carry him all the way to the top. He proceeded to, as he had told the students, the school infirmary.

Other than that brief moment of unpleasantry, the walk was just fine, with every single student shaking with excitement. They had been halted by Professor McGonagall, who looked at each student's face sternly. Lora tensed.

Lead by the professor, the group had finally reached the Great Hall, where thousands of candles were stationed just below the star-covered ceiling, and rows upon rows of students sitting at large tables each with their respective colours and on them gold plates and goblets. There was a table placed horizontally at the very end of the hall, with elder wizards sitting at it overlooking the students.

"Lora," Daemont asked, "why are they all wearing different colours and grouped together?" Lora looked at him, confused, "You mean you don't already know? Hogwarts has a house system, each house representing a system of values. Depending on what system of values you'd best relate to, you would be spending the rest of your Hogwarts life with that said house." Daemont asked, "So what houses are there?" Lora paused for a moment to think, then decided to continue on with her explanation of the four houses.

"Each house has a specific set of values. Gryffindor is guided by daring, and brave folk who often like to act recklessly and get themselves into trouble. I personally cannot stand their behaviour. You may be a Gryffindor for the way that you had charged recklessly at the murderer in a self-righteous manner." She winked at him as she said this, "you could've gotten yourself hurt real bad had that constrictor of yours not come to your rescue."

Daemont glared at her, "I was not rescued! I summoned him to do my bidding!" "Same difference. You were too weak to actually fight him yourself, so you used something else to capture him." Daemont turned his gaze back to the front of the group, and asked for more explanation from Lora regarding the Hogwarts houses while grimacing.

"Alright, then," she said, "there is also Ravenclaw, which values intellect, wit, and individuality. I think they're pretty cool people, but a wee bit on the nerdy side. Following that, there are the Hufflepuffs, who value hard work, loyalty, patience, and fairness above all. They're apparently the friendliest house."

Daemont laughed at the last one, "Why do people value fairness? It is an abstract concept shoved down people's throats from people who refuse to acknowledge their own incompetence and their own stupidity." He thought for a moment, "but then, hard work and loyalty do sound like really nice concepts. Being the friendliest house means nothing though if they've got no talent." The Headmaster signalled for everybody for silence.

The two were lined up with the rest of the first-year students, with Lora beginning the explanation of Slytherin when something was thrown at the back of her head from another direction; turned out it was an apple. "Ouch!" She looked behind her, and eyed Bruno signalling for her to be quiet.

She then proceeded to whisper to Daemont, "As I was saying, the Slytherin house values cunning, ambition, resourcefulness, and cleverness. Cleverness is a trait also, I believe, to be associated with Ravenclaw. Personally, I sort of find Slytherins to be ruthless, often cutting, and downright terrifying."

Just as she had finished her explanation, the Headmaster noticed her whispering, and declared, "now I am well aware of the fact that you are all tired and full of questions, but," he glanced in her direction, "please listen for as to what I have to say."

Lora blushed, and stood to attention. Unfortunately for the Headmaster, Daemont had quickly fallen asleep, his head on Lora's shoulder. "I would like to first begin this speech with the reminder to the students that-ahem!" The Headmaster glared at Daemont, his patience finally starting to run out.

"BOY!"

Daemont awoke with a start. "Wha-oh, hey, ain't cha too young to be our Headmaster? You look about twenty years of age or somethin', an' you look kinda inexperienced," said Daemont.

The Headmaster seethed with anger, as he chose to ignore the rash comments of Daemont.

The other first-years looked at Daemont with bewilderment, for nobody was to insult the Headmaster and get away from it unscathed. "Thanks to the intervention of this _boy_, my normally well-orchestrated thirty-second speech that has been done by previous Headmasters of Hogwarts have done for centuries will now have to be canceled," the Headmaster said through gritted teeth.

"We shall now begin to perform the sorting process, after which you first-years may take a seat at your designated tables."

The Sorting Hat sung its annual song, unintentionally coughing at the very end of it. "Altor Meindelstrene!" called an elderly woman, whom had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall.

A boy with jet black, sleek hair and white skin walked up to the Sorting Hat, and put it on, being sorted into Slytherin within ten seconds. He smiled on his walk back to a cheering crowd.

A brown-haired girl with pigtails was sorted next, belonging to Hufflepuff. As she walked down the steps to her table, she fell flat onto her face. All of the houses besides Hufflepuff were roaring with laughter.

Once the hall was silenced once again, the sorting continued.

Professor McGonagall called out Lora's name to be sorted. Lora strutted upwards nervously, and put on the hat. "Hmmm," muttered the hat, "a bright mind with plenty of intellect. Plenty of admiration for the arts and the humanities. Also very interested in the learning of the maths and magic. A perfect candidate for-RAVENCLAW!" A massive eruption of blue occurred, as Lora strolled down the steps confidently.

"Daemont Woodlock!" called McGonagall.

"Yes, sir-I mean, ma'am?" he asked, as he shifted his attention to the professor from one of the many candles burning above him.

Professor McGonagall puffed up, "YOU are being SORTED!"

Lora face-palmed.

"Oh." Daemont replied, as he strode up the steps hurriedly. "By the way, how do the candles manage to still be lit without dripping wax?"

The professor gave him a cold stare.

"Okay, okay, not the time for questions, ha ha..."

As he yanked the hat from the seat, and put it onto his head, people from all around the hall were giggling at him.

"Hmmm. You have well-practiced observational skills grouped with nothing short of a well-tuned, chivalrous attitude towards women. You possess an eccentric personality, accented by your ability and preference to converse with snakes over ordinary human beings. Despite that, however, you remain lonely not just externally, but internally. You... have locked deep within you a chilling ambition, to end the existence of-I am uncertain as to which-an individual or a select few people. You have a traumatic past, further pronounced by the persistent bullying at the hands of said individual or individuals and the loss of somebody dear to your heart." declared the Sorting Hat. "You also possess a much darker side of you that is best to keep hidden in the duration of your stay at Hogwarts."

The Sorting Hat took a breath, even though it probably didn't need one.

"Because your seething ambition overshadows all of your thoughts during your waking moments, it will have to be SLYTHERIN!"

Daemont proceeded down to his table, fist pumping as the crowd of Slytherins cheered. But as he glanced at Lora who met his eyes momentarily before focusing them up at the front, Daemont smiled with his lips but not with his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Fixing up things as I go along... still working on the first two chapters, but I have to get my thoughts out for what's going to happen in this chapter. Otherwise my mind will explode. No joke. Okay, maybe it is a joke.

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Chapter Three

The feast was magnificent.

Glasses clinked, forks clanged, plates clashed, and the House ghosts sang. To his right sat an African British boy named Simon Farmurkel. Simon, who had seen what transpired on the train involving Daemont, congratulated his victory upon meeting him, stuttering as he first approached him.

"Seriously," Daemont told Simon, "you make it sound much more difficult than it is. Parseltongue is an easy skill to attain, provided that you practice enough."

Simon sucked in his cheeks, smacked his lips, breathed in, and then breathed out, "y'sure make it sound easy as eating."

Daemont laughed joyously, as he took in a mouthful of roast beef.

The guy sitting directly across from him with an overly hooked nose and an eye-twitching comb-over haircut snickered before telling him, "If I were caught trying to talk to snakes, my father would've whipped me real good."

Daemont sighed, and replied with a mouthful of lettuce, saying, "Hey, I've got terrible news! The zoo's missin' a vulture. (Gulp!) I think you'd perfectly fit the profile of the said creature. Now flutter back, ugly fiend!"

The boy's face twisted into a nasty glare, "My father'll whip you good once I get a hold a' him!"

"I would like to see you try, seeing you go back home to what is very likely a dump, you smelly detrivore!"

Eyes shifted from the boy to Daemont as he said it.

The boy flipped over his black hair, and proclaimed, "I'm Lucas from the great Gungungstan family! Don't ever insult me or my family again, ya worm!"

Daemont snickered. "Putting forth your name before your family's name shows how conceited you are, and how you cower behind your family name as if it were a little fortress!" Lucas scratched his greasy head, confused. "What does 'conceited' mean? And 'cower'? D'you say those hard words just to throw me off? HUH?"

Daemont shook his head in a condescending manner, then looking at him straight in the eyes, "Your ignorance of those words further demonstrates your overall ignorance of your own worthless self and this frightening, beautiful world. You are unworthy of my time. Go away." Those words were uttered with venom and a piercing glare. Lucas quickly got up and ran away from the feast, towards the two massive doors and proceeded out of the Great Hall.

The area on the table around Daemont grew quiet.

Beside Daemont, Simon shivered from the intensity of the moment. "I don't think any first-years know those hard words you've said. Not sure if even the second-years understand half of what you've said. Or the third or fourth-year guys," cautioned Simon, quietly doing so.

"Yeah, you're probably right," whispered Daemont. "Sorry everyone," he apologized to the Slytherin table, "carry on, err, eating!" WIthout a fuss, the table turned back to its indulgence of the rich, wondrous food.

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Lora heard a loud pair of boys arguing at the Slytherin table. A funny looking boy got up from the table and ran from the Great Hall. She sniffed. "Hmph. Those savage snakes never do learn when to stop baring their fangs at everyone," said Cordelia Kin, a fellow first-year Ravenclaw student who took to Lora almost immediately following the Sorting Hat's decision to sort Lora into Ravenclaw.

"Yeah," Lora sighed as she looked over to the table, spotting Daemont instantaneously. Their eyes locked once more, then Lora lowered her gaze onto her dinner plate, feeling full. In her mind were conflicting thoughts about school life, the students from each of the four houses, but mostly about the nature of Daemont. _Who was he?_

"You alright, Lora?"

"Y-yes!"

"You don't look alright."

"I am. Thanks for asking."

"Okay."

After Cordelia did an accidental burp following the conclusion of the feast, the Ravenclaw students were led up through the Grand Staircase and onto the fifth floor. There, they had gone down the hallways leading up to Ravenclaw Tower. The staircase leading up to the Ravenclaw common room was tedious for the tired, young wizards.

They came across a bronze knocker who asked them a question, much to Lora's wonder and delight.

"What had two wings, and swooped in to devour the Beetle?" The students were talking amongst themselves for the answer for around five minutes before finally a boy popped up, shouting out loud, "The Bard!" The bronze knocker shook, "Correct you are!" It took a second for Lora to understand the clever usage in wordplay.

The door opened to a very airy room with windows that showed to Lora the Hogwarts Grounds. One could see the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, along with the Herbology Greenhouses and the Black Lake. Even the Forbidden Forest was in plain sight.

Lora took the time to closely observe the rest of the common room, and saw that it had bookshelves along with chairs, tables, and couches. There at the end of the common room in front of the door leading to the dormitories, the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw was to be seen in all her perceived glory.

After the initial cheer had subsided, Lora went through the door behind the statue, going through another door that led to the Girls' Dormitories. To her amazement, all of her luggage was neatly placed at the foot of her bed. She changed quickly into her night gown, and dived right into her four-poster bed with blue hangings, covered with vibrant, sky blue silk.

Her thoughts wandered back to Daemont; was he okay? Had she hurt his feelings by acting cold to him? But then again, wasn't he after all a Slytherin? Someone to be feared as well as despised?

_No_, she thought to herself, _he was not somebody one would hate at first glance,_ then giggled to herself when she was reminded of the vicious argument that had just taken place about what was now an hour ago. She made a note to herself to later apologize to him.

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Daemont followed the rest of the Slytherin house down to the dungeons, where it was noticeably darker than the rest of the castle, particularly at night. As the group stood in front of a plain, brick wall that was accessed by going down a flight of stairs, the head boy Gilfred Tiles spoke the password. "Dragon egg!"

The brick wall opened up to reveal a dark common room with green lamps placed throughout the room. Many students breathed in awe, while others had gaping mouths. Daemont sat down on a cushy chair, taking in all the common room had to offer. He got up, and grabbed a book from the shelf that looked to have been interesting. It was titled, "The Many Nights of Schoedenborne Gnaw," authored by David Prowle. Some students went up to choose their bed while two others stayed in the common room after Simon told Daemont he would save Daemont the best bed. Daemont smiled, and went back into the book.

"Whatcha readin'?" asked a girl kneeling down right behind him, glancing into the book.

"You can read this after and find out for yourself," smiled Daemont as he said this without looking back to face her.

The girl pinched his right cheek from behind, "Go back to the beginning. I wanna read it with you."

Without removing his eyes from the book, Daemont said, "You're that red-haired girl who tousled my hair after spotting me come down from the Sorting Hat You've got green eyes, am I correct?"

She giggled, "Of course you'd absorb that info like a sponge."

Daemont yawned, "Well, I'd best be getting to bed. Have a good night, err... Kendra..."

"Kendra Malkovik."

"Right."

"Second year."

"Oh, okay, cool."

He went off to the boys' dormitories, and saw the bed that had been reserved for him by Simon, seeing as how there were no other beds open. This one had a great view of the Black Lake. He loved it.

Listening to the waves gently lapping against the window made Daemont gradually fall asleep.

lll

He dodged the blast from the front of him with sheer luck on his side.

"Drat!" he exclaimed, running towards the tree to his left and cowering behind it like a frightened squirrel.

"CRUCIO!" shouted a wizard directly behind him, pointing his wand at the boy's back.

The boy writhed in agony on the dark, wet grass as the spell performed its function, his long, white hair sprawled on the ground in an utter mess.

The full moon shone down upon him like a spotlight, inviting the surrounding wizards to unleash a storm of curses. However, rather than choosing to kill him quickly, they all decided to follow up with the same spell.

After what seemed like hours to the boy with the tortured soul, the spell casters were revealed to have cloaks tinged with grey. One of the militant wizards walked briskly towards the boy lying on the ground. "Did it feel good to you, Mr. Woodlock?" he said, before snickering to his fellow comrades, by which they applauded in response.

"The level of hatred we as a group have for people like you is insurmountable; there is nothing comparable to this seething anger that we all wish we could direct at you." He looked up now to the rising sun; it had really been that long of a night for Rukator Woodlock. "But, alas, you will not be given any way to cause harm to our group, given that we shall, through our collective power, render you immobile at worst, and greatly restricted at best."

They resumed their attack on the young boy, not giving Rukator the chance even to utter a single word of protest through painful breaths.

Loud, terrible screams filled the hours from the late evening to the early morning.

øøø

Kamatouge Yrepra looked through the glass window of the Headmaster's bedroom, overlooking the grounds of the school. Having been a former Hogwarts student himself two decades ago, Kamatouge learned how to communicate with those younger than himself again through becoming Headmaster for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The sun was rising again, and before long, students would be up for their early morning breakfast and proceed to their classes and come out of them better wizards-and hopefully better people-coming out of them. A cup of tea was his choice of refreshment, as he closely observed the morning dew on the grass with his sharp vision.

Something quickly darted from left to right in his view of the grounds. He yelped in fear as the thing landed on the window from the inside; it was a mere fly.

Flustered with himself, he pointed his wand at the small creature, ending its life and watching it fall towards his feet. He crushed it with his right foot, chuckling as he did so.

The young headmaster grabbed his cup of tea and drank from it, later realizing that nothing was in the cup as he had been so preoccupied with business regarding the new school year that was to be. "Good grief," he muttered to himself as he went to fill up his cup, "can't there be any rest for a studious man such as myself?"

He sighed. If only looking at the sun could've told him all he had needed to know, going forth that day.

łłł

Simon opened his eyes to a room with a small pond in the middle, surrounded by beds with green silk hangings and silver bedspreads, water plopping against the windows. It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the light emitting from the silver lanterns hanging by the ceiling.

The early morning breeze was not felt in the dormitory, as the placement of the dungeons were below the Black Lake. Looking through a window, Simon saw many bizarre and wonderful looking creatures of all shapes and sizes, including but not limited to giant, spiked fish and small fries. A giant squid bared its eye at the window and Simon screamed, breaking the silence and awakening everyone in the room. Except for Daemont.

Rather than choosing to get up, Daemont continued to lie in bed, dreaming a presumably wonderful dream, seeing as how his face was wrapped up in a tight smile. Simon nudged him. _Harder_, he thought to himself. Daemont still wouldn't budge. Simon sighed. He tried again, harder than last time.

Daemont jerked awake, "Blaaah!" Everyone eyed him in annoyance. A softly muttered apology could be heard from him, as he got dressed into his uniform while thinking about the book he had read the night before and about Lora. Lora Kastome. He shook his head while thinking of her, wondering what he'd done wrong to turn her off from him. That gentle, kind, beautiful girl with silky smooth brown hair and hazel eyes; traits to die for! He shook his head when he realized that he was about to walk into the little pond in the middle of the dormitory.

His thoughts quickly shifted to his studies. Yes, his studies. It wasn't as though he knew much about the magical world, though. While his mother was a witch, she never really bothered to raise him up to be a wizard in a true sense, meaning that she encouraged strong relationships and interactions with muggles.

Daemont found those bonds impossible to make, as nearly every muggle he'd encounter thought of him as eccentric, or worst of all, uninteresting. Did they think of him as simply ordinary? He dreaded the question.

Since the entire boys' dormitory was awoken by Simon's screaming, they all went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

łłł

Sleep came easily for Lora, and as a result, she didn't need to be awoken by the sound of any one of her dormitory mates making loud noises in order to jolt her awake. A thought entered into her mind as soon as she had fully woken up; she was finally at Hogwarts, home of the brave, ambitious, hardworking, and intelligent. Being careful not to wake anybody in her dormitory up, she got up from her bed and shuffled through her luggage.

Daemont. Yes, Daemont entered into her mind for a brief moment, making her wonder about what to make of him. It was the Slytherins who caused the Battle of Hogwarts to take place, for had it not been the Death Eaters, there would not have been so many casualties. She grimaced, realizing that her thoughts were not taking into consideration that Daemont was not like those Death Eaters, although a flicker of doubt kept on crossing her mind.

Why did she think that the boy who provided her company aboard the train and on the boat getting to Hogwarts would be equitable to the likes of a Death Eater? It was a question she kept asking herself as the time slowly ticked by. She resumed her search for the appropriate clothing.

The next few minutes were a breeze, as she hummed a tune to herself while getting dressed up for the day, then proceeded downstairs with her schoolbooks so that she'd be ready to dash out of the Great Hall to attend her morning classes.


	4. Chapter 4

I know, I know. Beginning the fourth chapter before even starting the third chapter. What am I on, eh? Well, back to working on Chapter Three...

* * *

Chapter Four

It was Daemont's first time being handed the Daily Prophet, reading the front cover saying "Mysterious Terrorist Organization Strikes Again!"

He flipped through the article, coming across numerous assumptions on the true identities of such terrorists. However, no evidence backed up any claims made in the news article.

He was about to flip over to another page three-quarters of the way through the article until something caught his eye-"The terrorists are characterized by their clothing, appearing to include a black robe tinged with yellow, and a symbol sewn onto their skin."

The article showed the photo of the sign, which appeared to be the face of a rodent with vertical stripes on its face, the colours alternating between black and yellow. It was baring its teeth, ready to feast on anything that came close to it. Below in bold letters were tattooed "Ravenstvo".

"The terrorist group is currently targeting what appears to be wizards of high profile across the nation. So far, however, we have not been able to interview a member from the group, showing up only to see the remains of destruction left in their wake."

Daemont chuckled at the moving pictures, with buildings being lit on fire and people screaming in the background. A girl crept up behind him, and poked him in the back with an index finger. "Yes?"

"Whatcha readin'?"

Daemont sighed; he turned his head around and saw it was Kendra.

"This." He pointed at the article.

"What's so funny about terrorist attacks and burning buildings?" Kendra asked with a frown.

"Oh, um," he eyed his feet, "the pictures were moving. I've never seen pictures move like this before."

"What's the matter? Got raised by muggles or somethin'?"

Daemont, feeling embarrassed, left the conversation hanging and turned back around towards his paper.

"Move over," Kendra said to two first-years, as she pushed them aside and picked took a seat to the right of Daemont. "Now tell me something, Daemont-are your parents muggle or not?"

Daemont shifted uncomfortably, "Will it trouble you to know that my father is one?"

Kendra laughed, "Why does everybody believe that Slytherins vehemently oppose muggle-borns? The beacon of greatness is colour-blind."

"Good analogy. Sorry about that." Daemont finished the last of his breakfast, and got up from the table, "Well, I'd best be going. See ya."

"Oh, okay," Kendra frowned again, "later."


End file.
